


Can't help but want you

by pietrosminimoff



Series: Open and Closed [1]
Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chapter Related, Despair Disease (Dangan Ronpa), Emotional Constipation, Fluff, Hajime-centric, Light Angst, M/M, Sickfic, chapter 3 spoilers kind of, kind of confession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:20:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24074332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pietrosminimoff/pseuds/pietrosminimoff
Summary: What might have gone down if Mikan hadn't fallen asleep and if Hajime remembered Nagito had lying as his symptom.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, komahina
Series: Open and Closed [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737877
Comments: 7
Kudos: 447





	Can't help but want you

**Author's Note:**

> not beta read. i wrote this after getting 3 hours of sleep over 38 hours. could a depressed person make this?

Hajime still didn’t understand why he was so pumped about Nagito feeling better. 

Mikan had stormed into his room in the middle of the night and woken him up, unsteady from exhaustion but clearly relieved. When she told him that Nagito’s condition had stabilized, Hajime had leapt out of bed, all hints of sleepiness rushing away. Something settled in his gut at the thought of Nagito being safe, something like relief. He chose not to put a name to it, and headed to the hospital. In the hospital room, Nagito was standing up, still in his hospital gown, and spouting nonsense about Ibuki and her “twin”. Mikan explained that he still had the lying symptoms, and that the only change was his condition stabilizing.

“But… I’m so glad. I’m so relieved Nagito regained consciousness.” The nurse took a second, her eyes fluttering closed. “I’m so glad…” she sighed, sounding a bit out of it. Hajime frowned, worried, and she shook her head to clear it. “I feel dizzy… Everything is spinning around me.”

Hajime knew that she hadn’t slept for two days, caring for Nagito the entire time, and he admired her tenacity. But she needed to sleep. “Shouldn’t you get some rest already? You should be exhausted from nursing without any sleep, right?”

Mikan nodded. “I will use the on-call room upstairs. You must be mentally exhausted, so you should relax in the lobby until morning, or you can go back to your room until then!” she chirped with a small smile. 

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Hajime agreed.

“Then… Even though it’s morning, good night.” She wobbled a bit as she reached the door, then left, clearly exhausted.

And then he was alone with Nagito.

“All alone with Hajime, huh? I can’t stand being in the same room as you.” Hajime’s brain short circuited at the insult, before it clicked into place. He still had the symptoms, which meant… he was lying.

“Do you want me to stay?” Hajime offered tentatively. Every fiber of him told him to leave the room, but there was something in his gut telling him to stay.

“Hurry up and go away! I don’t want to see your face anymore,” Nagito replied, and Hajime leaned against the wall next to the door, uncertain of what to say. Sure, Nagito was a little weird, and a little untrustworthy, but was he really such a bad person? He made no move to leave, and Nagito sat back on the bed, staring across the room at him.

“I can’t stay the entire night,” Hajime told him, crossing his arms and relaxing a bit, though not too much. Nagito’s face seemed to fall a little, and there was a primal urge in Hajime to cup his cheek tenderly. He shook his head, trying to clear that thought.

“Leave as quickly as possible,” Nagito suggested, sounding… hopeful. Hajime could do that. He moved across the room, sitting in the chair that was next to Nagito’s bed, which Mikan had presumably used.

“Okay, but you have to lay down.” Hajime wasn’t going to have a very ill patient up and about; Ibuki had already done that and scared the shit out of him. 

Nagito obeyed, and there was a moment of silence as he got under the hospital blankets, which looked rather thin. Maybe it was better that way, considering the fever. Hajime looked at him while he moved, his fluffy white hair glowing in the moonlight. Somehow, most of it remained looking like a cloud, while only parts of it clung to his face in sweaty strings. His hazy eyes looked paler, and his skin appeared white, except for the flushed cheeks that indicated his ever-present fever. Nagito was so… well, he certainly wasn’t ugly, but Hajime didn’t want to consider what his opinions could mean. Those opinions included Nagito’s looks, as well as his cunning, and how kind he was, even if he was a little weird. He had stayed by Hajime’s side, waiting for him to wake up on the beach, and even went around introducing him to everyone. That wasn’t something a bad person would do. That didn’t feel like a lie. Still, how much could he really trust Nagito?

“You trust me,” he commented quietly, as though having read Hajime’s mind. 

“How can I? You lied.” Something shone in his hazy eyes at the retort, and Hajime wanted to say it was something like remorse, or guilt. He was unsure.

“Do you really not feel bad that our friends are dying?” Hajime asked, his voice betraying the hurt he’d been trying to push away.

“I don’t. But my feelings on it matter. It will make everyone here weaker, and that’s what isn’t important. The deaths will breed despair in everyone’s hearts, and my own feelings matter because I matter,” Nagito admitted after a pregnant pause.

Hajime had to think about that for a second, piecing everything together. So Nagito did feel remorse, but he felt his own feelings didn’t matter? What kind of fucked up logic was that?

“You plotted a murder,” Hajime shot back, looking away.

“I did. I didn't want to be a stepping stone for everyone else, but better you than me.”

When Hajime turned back to Nagito, he was staring at him with a gentle gaze, and suddenly he couldn’t look away. He was captivated by those words, that self-sacrificing attitude. It was infuriating, sure, but again, not the motives of a bad person. He would rather he be killed and so someone had the chance of escape than let someone else be killed. It was a horrible method, but his intentions were good, in a weird way. 

The other thing captivating him was the look in Nagito’s eyes. It was one of understanding, of acknowledging why Hajime felt betrayed and hurt, and one of something fonder, something more… No. He wouldn’t say that. If he said it, it would become real — Nagito’s feelings would be real — and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hajime stood up, breaking the gaze. “Rest.” He turned away, heading for the door, unable to confront his own feelings.

“Go!” Nagito pleaded. 

_Stay!_ Hajime paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“You like me,” Nagito continued. For a brief second, he felt as though Nagito knew, before remembering the symptoms again.

“I don’t,” he replied truthfully.

“You don’t have to tell the truth. You always want to be around me. I’m a gift, a blessing.”

Hajime turned back around and stalked back to his bedside, then stiffly sat down. He turned to look at Nagito, who had shifted so he was sitting up in bed, his back propped up by pillows. “Don’t talk about yourself like that,” he sighed. Nagito suddenly reached for his hand, and his skin was clammy and hot, but Hajime didn’t dare let go. His heart leapt into his throat, and he let himself look at Nagito. All at once, he felt overwhelmed. His cheeks flushed, and his mind stopped working. That was definitely affection in his eyes; not even he was _that_ oblivious.

There was a barrier between them, so thick it was almost tangible. Hajime wanted to tear it down, pull Nagito into his arms and figure out what the hell he was feeling for the boy with hair like a cloud. He didn’t understand it, had never felt this way before, at least not that he remembered. Was this a crush? Was this affection? Why did it _suck?_

He continued to stare at Nagito, his brow furrowing with frustration and tension. Nagito still had that same loving gaze in his eyes, one that said he’d do anything for him. 

“You’re not… you’re good. You… I don’t dislike you,” Hajime breathed, not letting himself say anything more.

Nagito took that as a cue to lean forward and lean his hot forehead against Hajime’s shoulder. It didn’t even occur to him that he might be contagious, that Hajime might catch the Despair Disease. Instead, he shifted, pushing Nagito back down on the bed and laying next to him. His cheeks turned pink again, and he wouldn’t look Nagito in the eye. Nagito, however, wrapped his arms around his waist and leaned into him, closing his eyes in what appeared to be contentment. Hajime’s shirt already had traces of Nagito’s sweat on it, but he didn’t mind too much. He tentatively wrapped one arm around the taller boy’s shoulder, pulling him slightly closer. He shouldn’t be doing this, he knew that, but there was something so alluring about staying like that. Something so domestic. Something so warm.

So there he remained until it was time to call Kazuichi the next morning, only to find disaster.


End file.
